


In The Red

by DobbyRocksSocks



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: And daft, Bereavement Camp!AU, Boys are competitive, Grief, Hermione knows what's going on, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of character death/murder/suicide/cancer/drowning., Neville is adorable, Panic Attacks, Slow Burn, Survivors Guilt, muggle!AU, sirius is a good godfather
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:07:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23857354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DobbyRocksSocks/pseuds/DobbyRocksSocks
Summary: Spending ten days at a Bereavement Retreat wasn't really what Harry wanted to be doing, and yet... by the end of it, he might just be glad that he did.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin (mentioned)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 129





	In The Red

**Author's Note:**

> I think I caught all the trigger warnings, but please let me know if I didn't.

He climbed out of the car. It felt like they’d been driving for hours, and he stretched his back out gratefully as he looked around. The campsite was straight out of the brochure, which was at least a little surprising, given Harry’s expectations had been much lower. 

The reception building was painted bright blue, and the large white welcome sign by the door had a waving sunshine on it, proclaiming it to be a beautiful day for making new friends. 

Cheesy, certainly, but it had a certain charm to it, Harry thought. 

Sirius climbed out of the driver’s seat and clapped Harry on the shoulder. “You’ll be okay here, Harry. Maybe they’ll… maybe they’ll be able to help you.” 

Harry nodded, swallowing hard. He hadn’t particularly wanted to come, but the look on Sirius’ face when Harry hadn’t immediately jumped at the opportunity was enough to make him smile and agree to it. 

Sirius only wanted to help, Harry knew. He just wanted Harry to feel better, or to at least stop feeling guilty simply for being alive. 

Easier said than done. 

Harry turned slowly, looking around them. There were small log cabins, all lined up in a row to the left of the reception building. Just in front of those, a swimming pool, complete with diving board and tall seat on which a lifeguard would surely sit when the pool was open. 

Above the trees to the right, Harry could see the high ropes course, and he knew there was also an assault course and mini golf in the same area. He’d studied the map intensively on the way to the camp, mostly to save himself having to try and make conversation with his godfather. 

Being in the car for such a long trip had been draining enough, but trying to talk to Sirius without making him look like a kicked puppy was always somewhat exhausting lately. 

Harry just didn’t know what he was supposed to say to keep his godfather from looking so sad. 

The camp also had a boating lake, with pedal boats, kayaks and other activities. 

If nothing else, Harry was sure there was enough going on that he'd be able to occupy his mind more than he could at home. Anything to stop him from sinking into his own thoughts could only be a good thing. 

“I’m sure it’ll be great,” he said, offering Sirius a small smile. 

“I’ll come in with you for check in,” Sirius said, as he opened the boot on the car to pull Harry’s suitcase out. 

“It’s fine,” Harry replied, shaking his head. “I’m seventeen, I’m sure I can manage a check in, Sirius.” 

Sirius only raised his eyebrow and made an ‘after you’ gesture to the door. 

… 

“Welcome to Camp Spirit,” the woman on the desk said. She seemed… peppy. Like something out of a 1950’s summer camp movie. It was… eerie. Harry handed over his paperwork, and she glanced over it. “I’m Elizabeth, one of the camp counsellors. You’ll be part of our Red Group, Harry. We have three groups incoming today, and we like to keep the different groups colour coded for ease of activity planning.” 

Harry nodded. “Okay. I don’t have to wear red, do I?” he asked, frowning as he thought about what he’d packed. He might have a red t-shirt with him, but he certainly didn’t have ten of them, and that was how long the ‘retreat’ was supposed to last. 

“Oh, no, don’t worry. It’s just so you know what’s open to you personally during what time on what days,” Elizabeth assured him, and he relaxed slightly. She typed a few words into her computer and then returned her attention to him. “You’re in Cabin 2B. You can either go and settle in now, or wait for the rest of your cabin mates to arrive. Everyone should be here within the next hour.” 

“I’ll go and settle in now,” Harry replied quietly. At least if he was the first to arrive, he could have his pick of the beds. 

She nodded, and handed him a small pack. In it, there seemed to be a map, a few brochures and leaflets and the key to the cabin. He accepted it with a quiet thanks, and turned to look at Sirius. 

Sirius looked at Elizabeth. “You have my number on file, right?” 

She nodded. “We have your number, Mr Black, and also a number for,” she glanced at her screen, “A Mr Remus Lupin?” 

Sirius nodded. “My partner. Thank you.” 

She smiled at him, and Sirius walked out of the office, pulling Harry’s suitcase along with him. 

“I’ll see you in ten days, alright kid?” 

“Not a kid,” Harry murmured, but he leant into the arms Sirius wrapped around him anyway, and took a moment to enjoy the comforting scent of his godfather’s favourite cologne. “I’ll see you when you come pick me up. And hey, don’t worry. I’ll be okay, right?” 

Sirius nodded. “Right. You have your phone if you need anything, and your bank card and some cash, right? You remembered to pack your charger?” 

“Of course I did,” Harry said, “and yes I do. I’ll text you, kay?” 

Sirius nodded, and after a final squeeze, he released his grip on Harry and climbed back into the driver’s seat of the car. Harry watched him pull away from the curb slowly, and stayed where he was until Sirius’ car was completely out of sight. 

He sighed, wrapping his hand around the handle for his suitcase. It was going to be a long ten days. 

… 

The cabin was pretty much what Harry expected it to be. He snagged the bed closest to the bathroom, and threw the pack Elizabeth had given him onto the bed. He knew he should unpack his suitcase, but instead, he sat down on the bed and pulled his mobile from his pocket. 

From the screen, his parents smiled up at him. The picture was his favourite, taken two winters ago when they’d had snow for the first time in years. His mum’s eyes—a perfect mirror to Harry’s own—were bright with excitement, and she was laughing at Harry’s dad, who was holding the earflaps of his hat out as far as they’d go with a grin on his face. 

Just a moment in time, but Harry would do anything to just be able to go back to it and stay there forever. 

He waited for the screen to darken and put his phone on the bedside table, before he pulled the pack towards him. He pulled the map out first and then started sorting through the leaflets. 

_ Bereavement and You _ read the first one, and Harry snorted despite himself. The second one was just as unimaginative -  _ The Five Stages of Grief _ . If this was an indication to the type of thing he was going to be listening to, he really should have fought harder to stay home. 

He’d already had all of these conversations with the grief counsellor at home. Sirius had been adamant in the aftermath of the accident that Harry spoke to someone. 

It hadn’t helped any. 

Rolling his eyes at the leaflets, Harry took note of the daily schedule and saw that he was expected at the dinner/orientation in just a few hours, where everyone would meet each other properly and be given a talk on what they could expect from their camp experience. 

It was sure to be… interesting, he supposed. Leaving the leaflets on the bed, Harry got up and lifted his suitcase to the end of the bed, unzipping it and letting the top of it flop over the other side. 

He unpacked his charger first, making sure to put it in the drawer in the little bedside table. He soon added his headphones and his wallet. He was transferring his folded clothes into the small set of drawers when the door opened. 

A blond boy stepped inside, peering around curiously. When he saw Harry, his expression blanked off. 

It was… unsettling. His grey eyes had an intensity that Harry wasn’t really sure what to do with, and he had to look away. 

“Hey,” he greeted quietly. 

“Hello,” the boy replied, nodding his head. “I’m Draco. You are?” 

“Harry.” 

Draco nodded his head once and glanced at the beds, his lip curling slightly. In the end, he decided on the one beside Harry, putting his phone on the bed before he slid the suitcase beneath it without unpacking. 

When it became clear the boy wasn’t going to say anything more, Harry continued unpacking. When he was done, and his now empty suitcase was stashed beneath his bed, he flopped back onto the covers and pulled his headphones back out of the drawer. 

Since it seemed that Draco was perfectly content to bury his face in his own phone, Harry figured he wasn’t being rude. Before he could drown out the awkward silence with music, the door opened again, and another boy stepped inside. 

He looked nervous, and flushed bright red when he realised both Harry and Draco were looking at him. He was stockier than Harry, and he had mousey brown hair cut pretty short. 

Certainly nothing like Harry’s ebony hair that had a life or it’s own, or Draco’s perfectly styled blond hair. 

“Uh. I’m Neville,” he muttered weakly. 

Harry could see his knuckles were white where he was gripping at the handle of his suitcase. 

“Harry.” 

“I’m Draco.” 

Neville nodded, and looked at the currently empty beds. Harry took pity on him. 

“You can claim any of the beds you want, there’s no one else here yet.” 

Neville nodded again, his lips quirking into a small, grateful smile, and he put his suitcase beside the bed closest to the door—the one furthest away from Harry. 

Harry put his headphones in and folded his hands over his chest. He knew that they’d probably get to know each other over the course of the ten days, but so far, he didn’t really want to be fast friends with either of his new roommates. 

Although… he didn’t really want to be ‘fast friends’ with anyone anymore. 

It was hard, because friends seemed to want to talk about  _ feelings,  _ and Harry wasn’t particularly interested in spilling his guts to anyone. Nobody needed to know what was inside his head. 

A bang made Harry jump, and he pulled his headphones out and looked at the door to see a boy standing there, his suitcase on the floor in front of him, a sheepish look on his face. 

The boy was shorter, practically tiny, and there was something about him that screamed mischief. 

“Um. Oops?” 

Harry couldn’t help it, he chuckled. 

“I’m Theo,” the boy introduced himself. “Clearly a walking disaster.” 

They all introduced themselves, and Theo picked his suitcase up and cheerfully dumped it onto the bed beside Neville’s. He opened it up and started unpacking it, smiling at them all. 

“So, are you all looking forward to the activities?” he asked. “I’m living for the high ropes! And kayaking, too!” 

Draco shrugged his shoulder, a bored expression on his face. “I guess.” 

“I don’t like heights,” Neville said, his blush returning. “Or water.” 

Harry raised his eyebrows. He could see that the other boys were thinking the same as he was; what was this guy doing here? 

“What about you, Harry?” Theo asked. 

“Eh,” Harry shrugged. “It’ll make a change from the normal, boring everyday, I guess.” 

Theo nodded. “Elizabeth—did you all meet Elizabeth?—said to tell you that we’re expected in the hall in about forty-five minutes.” 

Harry nodded. He’d been keeping an eye on the time. He wasn’t exactly eager for the first meeting, but he hated to be late for things. Sirius was the worst for being late, it was one of the few things the two of them argued over. 

“Is this us, then?” Draco asked, glancing at them. “It already seems pretty full in here. Another person, and we’ll be fit to bursting.” 

“It’s not like we’ll be spending much time here though,” Theo said, shrugging his shoulders before he put his suitcase away. “The cabin is just for sleeping. Did you all see the time table thing?” 

He waved his pack at them, an identical one to the one Harry had been given. “There’s  _ a lot  _ going on, pretty much every day. Do you think they’re trying to exhaust us into giving up the grief?” 

It was almost incredible, the way the atmosphere in the room changed immediately when Theo finished his sentence. Theo cleared his throat awkwardly after a full minute of silence. 

“Uh. Sorry.” 

“You did warn us you were a disaster,” Draco commented, and for the first time since his initial curiosity, there was an actual expression on his face, albeit one of disbelieving amusement. 

Harry snorted, and even Neville let out a small chuckle. 

Before any of them could speak, the door opened for a fifth time, and a tall redhead walked in. He glanced at all of them, and then smiled. 

“Hey, I’m Ron. Elizabeth said I’m the last to arrive.” 

They introduced themselves again, and Harry wondered just how many times he’d have to say his own name that day. Ron seemed nice though, and he didn’t seem fussed that he was stuck on the middle bed—something Harry himself would have hated. 

Ron, like Draco, seemed perfectly happy to not unpack, and shoved his worn suitcase beneath his bed. On the bedside table, he put the pack they’d all been given, not even bothering to look at what was inside. 

“We should think about heading to the dinner hall soon,” Theo said, checking the chunky gold watch on his wrist. “We don’t want to get there late and have to fight for seats.” 

“I think the different groups have different eating times,” Neville said, his voice so quiet that Harry had to strain to actually hear his words. “Elizabeth said that we wouldn’t really be mixing much with the other groups.” 

The five of them gathered up their jackets and phones—and in Harry’s case, his headphones, which he left plugged into his phone and left them to dangle around his neck—and left the cabin, Theo bringing up the rear to lock it behind them. 

“Do you think there’s a lot of us here for the Bereavement Retreat?” Ron asked. 

“I can’t imagine there will be that many. They want to give us all the opportunity for the counselling sessions, right? If there were lots of us, there wouldn’t be a chance for everyone to take them.” 

It made sense to Harry and he nodded at Theo’s words, although privately, he thought he probably wouldn’t be taking the ‘opportunity’ for more counselling, but he knew that for a lot of people, talking  _ did  _ help. 

He just… wasn’t one of those people. 

… 

The dining hall was fairly spacious, though Harry didn’t think it was exactly big enough for a camp this size. They were the first to arrive, and took their seats around one of the four long tables. 

Elizabeth joined them almost immediately, smiling brightly at them. 

“We’re just waiting on the girls,” she told them. “And then we’ll have the food served. Since the weather is nice, we thought we’d move orientation to the camp fire pit for the evening.” 

Harry watched Neville swallow hard. 

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, raising his eyebrow. 

“Not a fan of fire,” Neville admitted, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll be fine.” 

Harry just nodded, and looked down at the table. Neville really didn’t seem to like a lot of things. Harry wondered if he was scared of his own shadow, but then told himself off mentally for being mean. 

He was sure Neville was a perfectly nice guy. 

He sure did seem scared of a lot of things though. 

“So, are you all happy with your cabin?” Elizabeth asked, looking around at them. 

There was a murmur of affirmative answers from all of them. 

“I’m sure you’ll all enjoy the plans for tomorrow, especially in the morning. We’re going to archery, and then if we have time, swimming before lunch. In the afternoon, we’ll have a group therapy session—optional, though I encourage all of you to be there. You won’t have to speak if you don’t want to, nobody is going to force anything on you that you don’t want to do while you’re here.” 

Harry sighed to himself. Before she could continue, the girls arrived. Elizabeth greeted them all cheerfully as they sat down at the next table along, and dinner began without much fanfare. 

It was standard fare, a choice of fish and chips or sausage and mash, or a vegetarian option that seemed to be ignored entirely. 

There was only the sounds of cutlery while they all scoffed their food, and soon after, they were being led back outside to a small clearing. The fire had already been lit, and there were two men there that Harry supposed were more of the camp counsellors were waiting for them. 

“This is Alex,” Elizabeth introduced, pointing to the dark skinned guy, “and this is Tony,” she added, gesturing to the other one. “They’re the other two counsellors for the Red Group, so you’ll be seeing quite a bit of them.” 

Everyone took seats on the wooden logs that were masquerading as benches around the fire pit. 

“Okay, we’re going to start with introductions,” Elizabeth said. She was sitting on a bench with Alex and Tony, while the rest of them were squished onto the three others. Harry found himself sandwiched by Neville and Draco. “I’ll go first. I’m Elizabeth, I’m from London originally, though I spend nine months of the year on site here at Camp Spirit. I’ve been a youth counsellor for ten years, and worked here for six years. My favourite animals are cats, and I love to read outside as a way to relax.” 

Tony smiled at her and then looked around at them all. “I’m Tony. I’m from Birmingham, though like Elizabeth, I live most of the year here. I’ve been a youth counsellor for fifteen years, and worked here for five of them. My favourite colour is blue, and watersports are my favourite activity. I’ll be your guide when we have adventures down on the lake.” 

A girl on the next bench along blush when Tony smiled at her, gesturing for her to go next. 

“I’m Hermione. I live in Surrey with my Aunt, I, uh. I like cats. And to read. And, uh. I guess I’m here because my Aunt is worried that I’m isolating too much.” 

She looked at the girl next to her, clearly done with talking. 

“I’m Hannah. I’m from the Lake District, and I’m here because my counsellor back home thinks it would be good for me to realise I’m not alone in losing a parent. My favourite colour is purple, and um. I like running. It helps me not think about things.” 

They went around the circle, one at a time, introducing themselves. Most of them were there because their parents or guardians thought it was a good idea, not because they personally  _ wanted  _ to be there. 

Harry could relate. 

After Hannah, a girl called Susan spoke, and then it was Theo’s turn. After Theo, a girl named Padma, and another called Daphne. Ron was next and then it was Neville’s turn. 

Harry could see those sitting across from them straining to hear Neville’s quiet tone. 

“I’m Harry,” Harry introduced himself. “I’m here because… here is better than making my godfather worry more than he already does. I like music, and uh. I guess I’m looking forward to the high ropes.” 

He turned to Draco, who huffed softly. 

“I’m Draco, and I’m here because my mother made me come. She wants me to make better life choices, and she thinks this will help. I like music and reading, and… I guess I’m here because I want to see if I can change.” 

Harry blinked. He hadn’t expected the blond to be so honest; after the way he’d blanked his expression earlier, Harry rather thought the boy was going to be closed off to the Camp as a whole. 

“Okay then! I’m Alex, and I’m the head youth counsellor at Camp Spirit. I’ve worked here for almost twenty years—yes, that means I’m old. I bet I can still give you all a run for your money on the assault course. I like being active and having fun, and I’m always down for a laugh.” 

There were a few quiet chuckles, and then Elizabeth spoke up again. 

“While you’re here, we will of course be putting on many different activities for you to enjoy. If there are any you don’t want to do, just let us know. You can sit any of them out if you don’t feel comfortable. We’re also going to be focusing a lot on group therapy, though there will be a few opportunities for each of you to have private one on one sessions with us throughout the ten days. We encourage you to take part in as much as you think you can handle.” 

“We’re not promising that we can make you feel better,” Alex continued. “We just want to try and help give you some coping strategies, and perhaps give you a safe space to unleash any pent up emotions that you don’t feel comfortable or safe unleashing at home.” 

“We want you to have fun too,” Tony put in. “We’d like to teach you a few new skills, let you stretch your wings a little bit and see if there are any new hobbies you can pick up while you’re here. We’re always here, if you need anything, or if you’re feeling overwhelmed or have any problems while you’re here. All three of our numbers were in the pack you each received when you arrived, and you can feel free to text or call any of us at any time during your stay here.” 

“Any questions?” Elizabeth asked. 

It was well rehearsed, Harry thought. It was probably the same spiel they have to each new group that came to Camp Spirit for the bereavement retreat, but there was something about the three of them that made Harry feel like they were being genuine, despite the way it sounded like it had been repeated a thousand times. 

It seemed like they really wanted to help. 

… 

Harry woke up, panting. He was sweating, and his sheets were wrapped around him. He’d clearly been tossing and turning a lot. 

_ Fucking nightmares.  _

The cabin wasn’t entirely dark, lit by the moon shining through the window, and a small glow from the other end of the cabin. Harry sat up, knowing he wouldn’t be able to go straight back to sleep, and fought himself free of the blankets. 

Only when he saw up did he realise that he wasn’t the only one awake. Draco’s bed was empty. The sheets were rumpled, but certainly not as though they’d been slept in. Harry wondered if the blond had only waited for them to all fall asleep before he snuck off. 

Sitting up, he could also see that the glow at the other end of the cabin seemed to be coming from a small night light on Neville’s bedside table. 

Whatever was going on with that guy… Harry hoped that the camp would help him stop being so afraid of everything. 

He stood up, and as quietly as he could, walked past the other beds to the door and slipped out into the cooler night air. It was still warm, and he perched himself on the steps outside, relishing in the slight breeze that brushed his skin, cooling him down. 

“I didn’t think anyone else would be up.” 

Draco stepped from around the side of the cabin, a lit cigarette held in between his fingers. He sat down beside Harry on the steps. Harry could see the evidence he’d been out here for a while, with the multitude of cigarette ends stomped into the dirt in front of the steps. 

“Nightmare,” Harry muttered. “I can never sleep afterwards.” 

To his credit, Draco only nodded. He pulled a packet from his pocket and offered it to Harry. There were only four cigarettes left. 

Harry shook his head. He’d tried smoking at a party when he was fifteen, and the only thing it had made him do was cough up a lung. He didn’t understand how some people found them relaxing. 

“So, why are you really here?” Draco asked.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, raising his eyebrow. 

“Who did you lose?” 

Harry blinked. He hadn’t actually expected to be asked outright like that, which was strange, he supposed, in hindsight. Then again, he was so used to being ‘that poor boy’ back at home where everyone knew exactly who he’d lost, that maybe it wasn’t so strange that he was surprised. 

“My parents. Car crash. You?” 

“My father,” Draco said, taking another drag from his cigarette before he threw it down with the others. Harry watched it burn until eventually the light went out. “He was shot. My father was one of the Death Eaters. You’ve heard of them?” 

Harry nodded, because everyone who lived in London had heard of the Death Eaters. They were one of two gangs, fighting a turf war that nobody who wasn’t directly involved really understood. 

He thought back to what Draco had said during his introduction at the fire, and made an educated guess. “Your mother doesn’t want you to follow in his footsteps?” 

Draco’s eyes widened slightly, and then his lips quirked and he shook his head. “I really don't. I guess… he wanted me too. He wanted me to join him, and I wanted that because he wanted me too, I think. My father, he… he didn’t show much interest in me, until I was old enough to understand what a gang was.” 

“That… really blows,” Harry replied eventually. “Now you don’t want to join?” 

“Not really,” Draco admitted softly. “But it’s all I’ve known. Now… I guess I don’t really know who, or what, I am, if I’m not a Death Eater in training wheels.” 

“They, uh. Won’t try and force you to join?” 

Draco rolled his eyes. “What’s the point in a gang member who doesn’t want to be there? You’re only asking to be betrayed if you force people to join like that. It’s got to be my choice. My mother… she knows them well enough that they won’t hurt her or me, even if she isn’t actually one of them.” 

Harry nodded, because that made sense. “I guess you’ve just got to figure out who you want to be then.” 

Draco chuckled darkly. “Easier said than done, I think.” 

… 

Harry’s arms were  _ aching.  _ Archery had been fun, but it was hard work if you’ve never done it before. He walked with the others towards the pool, intent on sitting down on one of the sun loungers and not moving for half an hour. 

He was still tired, his disturbed sleep the night before had turned into sitting outside with Draco for almost two hours before they’d eventually returned to their beds, and he was feeling the lack of sleep now. 

They changed quickly into their swimming wear, and gathered around the pool. Most of them jumped straight into the water, cheering and shouting happily. Harry perched himself on the edge and dipped his legs in instead, smiling at Theo when he tugged on one of them playfully. 

He leant back, enjoying the sun. 

“Daphne? You’re not coming in?” 

Harry turned his head to see Daphne sitting in one of the chairs furthest from the pool. She shook her head, and Harry recognised the haunted look in her eyes. 

“You okay?” he asked, lifting his sunglasses so he could look at her properly. 

She nodded. “I, uh. My little sister, she drowned. I… I guess I don’t really like water.” 

“Understandable,” Harry murmured softly. “How old was she?” 

“Twelve,” Daphne said. “She was an excitable little thing, always diving headfirst into things. I guess… I guess her friend’s family didn’t know that she couldn’t swim and just let her go in their pool and she…” 

“I’m sorry,” Harry said, because that was what people said when they heard about a loss. He’d heard it often enough himself, and honestly, there wasn’t really anything else he  _ could  _ say. 

“I think I’m just going to head back to my cabin,” Daphne said, standing up. “I’ll see you all at lunch.” 

Harry nodded. “I’ll tell them. You’ll be okay on your own?” 

Daphne nodded. “I just… I just need a minute, you know?” 

Harry smiled at her and let his sunglasses fall back down to cover his eyes as she walked away, towel wrapped around her shoulders. 

“Oi, Harry! Come and play volleyball with us,” Ron called, throwing a ball up in his hands. “Teams are uneven without you.” 

He wanted to complain about not moving but… the smiles on their faces were infectious, and Harry slipped off the side into the water. 

… 

“Are you coming to lunch, Neville?” Theo asked. 

They’d returned to the cabin to change for lunch, and they’d found Neville lying on his bed, a book open in his hands. He’d opted out of the morning activities, choosing instead to stay in the cabin on his own. 

“Uh. Sure. I could eat,” Neville agreed. “You all look like you had fun.” 

“Archery was killer,” Harry muttered. “My arms are still aching. Volleyball was fun though.” 

“Stop bitching, you big baby,” Draco said, throwing a pillow at Harry. “You were good at archery.” 

“Maybe that’s why you’re not aching,” Harry quipped, throwing the pillow back. “Cause you were shit.” 

Theo and Ron laughed, and even Draco smiled, shaking his head. “I’m going to make you eat your words when we go kayaking. I’ll beat you around the lake by a mile.” 

Harry raised his eyebrows. “Fighting talk, but we’ll see.” 

They bantered back and forth between themselves as they returned to the main camp area for lunch, and even though Neville didn’t really get involved, Harry saw him laugh a couple of times. 

He wanted the guy to feel included. Harry didn’t know why, but there was something about Neville that just made Harry want to  _ protect  _ him. 

“Anyone know what was going on with Daphne at the pool?” Theo asked. “She seemed proper game at the archery, but then at the pool she looked really sad.” 

Harry held his tongue. If, or when Daphne was ready for them all to know what had happened to her sister was for her to decide. 

Lunch was a rowdy affair, and Harry let the noise wash over him as he checked his phone for messages and ate his way through a sandwich and fries. He wasn’t particularly looking forward to the afternoon. 

He’d thought about skipping the group therapy altogether, but he couldn’t help but feel like he’d be letting Sirius down if he did. It wasn’t that Harry didn’t want to help himself the same way Sirius did. 

Sirius just didn’t have the whole story. He’d never understand that Harry’s guilt wasn’t irrational, because he hadn’t been there. He didn’t know what happened. 

“You okay?” Draco asked, leaning into him slightly to keep his tone low. “You look like you’re thinking about something unpleasant.” 

Harry snorted. “I was thinking about the group therapy, so I guess you can make of that what you will.” 

“You thinking about skipping it?” 

Harry twisted his lips but then shook his head. “No, no I should go. I just… sharing isn’t something that comes easy, you know?” 

Draco nodded. “I know the feeling. We don’t have to talk though, right? Maybe even just listening will be helpful.” 

Harry wasn’t confident in that, but he nodded and then shrugged his shoulders lightly. “Can’t knock something you haven’t tried, right?” 

…

The seats were hard plastic, like the kind he had to sit on in school. Certainly not comfortable, despite the cushions that had been placed on them. Harry shifted, eyes flitting around the room at the others. Some of them looked as uncomfortable as Harry felt, and others seemed to be open to the idea of opening up to people that were still practically strangers. 

It boggled Harry’s mind. 

Elizabeth took her own seat. “Okay, we all know why we’re here. Because each of you lost someone close to you, and you don’t quite have the tools to pull yourself through the grieving process. That’s okay, you know? Nobody has an innate knowledge of how to deal with losing someone, and there’s no wrong way to grieve.

“Nobody here is going to force you to share anything that you don’t want too, but I’d like to open the floor to any of you that  _ do  _ feel comfortable sharing your loss.” 

There was silence for a long moment, and then Hannah cleared her throat. “My mum was murdered. I was away at boarding school, and… I guess it just didn’t feel real. They pulled me out of class, and the next thing I knew, I was on the train heading home to… well. To a dead mum, I guess. It still doesn’t really feel real. I just keep expecting her to appear again.” 

“What was your relationship like, with you mum?” Elizabeth asked, softly. 

Hannah smiled, even as her eyes welled with tears. “It was good. She was… she was my best friend. We were really close. She didn’t want me to go to boarding school, but she knew it was the best education for me and she let me go. I wish… I wish I hadn’t gone. Maybe if I’d stayed home, she wouldn’t be dead.” 

“Or maybe, you’d have died with her,” Theo said quietly. “Some murderers don’t differentiate victims based on age.” 

“No,” Hannah agreed. “And… they caught the guy that did it. It was a robbery gone wrong, or so the police said.” 

“Was he locked up?” Padma asked. 

Hannah nodded. “He was. He got twenty years, and I thought that would make me feel better, but it didn’t. I just… sometimes I feel empty, and sometimes, I feel so overcome with emotion that I don’t know how to get it out and I just want to scream.” 

“Thank you for sharing with us, Hannah,” Elizabeth said. 

Harry tried to listen to Elizabeth talking about anger and grief, he really did, but he couldn’t help but mull over Hannah’s words. He knew what it was to feel numb, and overwhelmed with emotion, but his anger was at himself, not at someone that could be, and had been, punished by the law. 

Though he supposed, twenty years in prison still wouldn’t bring back Hannah’s mother. 

“I lost my mum too,” Neville said, and Harry blinked, turning his head to look at the boy. He was tearing up a napkin in his lap, a nervous habit, Harry was sure. “She died of cancer, and… I guess a lot of people go through that, so it’s not really anything special.” 

“Loss is personal,” Elizabeth interjected. “Your mum was special to you, and that means that the loss of her is just as important as anyone else's.” 

“She was special,” Neville agreed, and his lips lifted into a tiny smile. “She always told me that I was her brave little soldier. She made me feel like I was brave, like I could do anything. Now that she’s gone—” he cut himself off for a moment, blinking furiously. “Now that she’s gone, I don’t feel brave about anything. That’s why I’m here. My gran insisted my dad sent me.” 

“It’s not unusual to feel like you’ve lost a sense of who you are when someone dies,” Elizabeth said. “You have to find your own inner strength, and that takes time, Neville.” 

“You  _ are  _ brave, Neville,” Harry felt the need to say. He could feel the eyes of everyone on him, and he knew he was blushing from the way his cheeks heated up. “You spoke up in front of everyone here. That takes balls.” 

Draco chuckled quietly beside him, and he realised what he’d said. “Uh. I mean. No, I meant what I said.” 

Neville laughed and Elizabeth grinned at Harry. “A colourful way to say it, but you’re not wrong, Harry. It does take a lot of courage to speak up in front of a group.” 

They ended the session soon after, and Harry slipped away from the group. He just… needed a minute to himself. 

…

They played games after dinner; stupid games that they all remembered from when they were kids. Harry found that he was enjoying himself despite his misgivings, and he thought that he wasn’t the only one, given the laughter in the room. 

Across the room, he could see Neville and Hannah laughing together and it made him smile. It was good to see Neville joining in and enjoying himself. 

After playing a third round of  _ duck, duck, goose,  _ Harry rose from the floor to the drinks table and grabbed a can of coke, before he sat down at one of the tables that had been pushed to the edge of the room. 

“Having fun, mate?” 

He turned to see Ron taking the seat beside him, and Harry smiled. “It’s certainly different. I remember playing games like these in school when I was younger.” 

Ron snorted. “I grew up playing them at home too. I’m one of seven, so there was certainly enough of us to go around.” 

“Seven kids? Wow, did your parents not have a TV?” 

There was a pause, and then Harry realised what he’d said. “Oh, my god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to say that.” 

Ron was laughing so hard, he had to wave Harry’s apology off instead of actually saying anything. “You have no filter, do you?” he asked, when he’d finally stopped laughing. 

“I uh. I guess I just don’t always think before I speak,” Harry admitted. “Growing up with so many siblings must have been fun though?” 

“Eh,” Ron replied, shrugging his shoulder. “It’s… harder than it probably sounds. With seven of us, we were pretty stretched for room, and money, and… and attention I guess.” 

Harry nodded. He couldn’t even imagine being one of seven. He was an only child, and he’d been the center of his parent’s world. He swallowed back a wave of fresh guilt, and sighed. 

“Do you miss them, being here by yourself?” 

“Not really,” Ron admitted. “I feel like I should but, well, I guess it’s nice to just be Ron, rather than ‘one of the Weasley’s’, you know? Do you have any brothers or sisters?” 

Harry shook his head. 

“What’s it like, being an only child?” 

“I don’t… know? It’s uh. It’s fine? I had plenty of friends, I guess, so I never really felt lonely. My godfather and his partner were there a lot too when I was growing up, so I always had people around.” 

Ron nodded. “Do you think it’s bad that I don’t miss them?” 

“Not really, no,” Harry replied. “If you’ve spent so long being one of a group, it must be nice for people to accept you as who you are on your own.” 

Smiling, Ron nodded. “Thanks, mate.” 

… 

For the second night in a row, Harry woke up with a start, panting and sweating and tangled in his blankets. He was used to the nightmares, of course he was, but they never stopped being horrible no matter that he was expecting them. 

Draco was sleeping in the bed next to him this time, and Harry felt a stab of regret that he wouldn’t have his company while his racing heart calmed back to a normal pace like he had the night before. 

Slipping from his covers, and then out of the cabin, Harry sat down in the same place he had with Draco and let the wind brush over his skin. It was a little colder than it had been the night before, and he wondered if he could slip back inside for a jumper without waking any of the others up. 

Deciding against it, Harry wrapped his arms around himself and leant to the side, against the railing. The moon shone brightly overhead, lighting the area, and Harry watched as a hedgehog hustled across the grass, sniffing and snuffling as it moved amongst the leaves. 

“More nightmares?” 

Harry turned to see Draco stepping out onto the decking, closing the door behind him with a quiet snick. 

“Did I wake you?” Harry asked, frowning slightly. 

Draco shook his head. “I woke up and saw you weren’t there, and I was coming out for a cig anyway. Want to tell me what’s scaring you out of bed every night?” 

“It’s not every night,” Harry grumbled. “I dream about the crash.” 

“You were there?” Draco asked, eyes widening slightly as he sat down beside Harry, lighting his cigarette with a silver lighter. 

“I was in the car,” Harry said softly. “I… it was my fault, the crash.” 

“Were you driving?” Draco asked, his eyebrow arching. 

“What? No, of course not, I was fifteen! But I was out, getting drunk with my friends, and I lost my wallet, so I couldn’t get home. My mum and dad came out to pick me up. They should have been at home, in front of the fire, not out on the icy roads to get me. We hit black ice and…” Harry shook his head. “If I hadn’t been such an idiot, they wouldn’t have been in the car. It’s my fault they died.” 

“I understand why you feel like that,” Draco said softly. “But I don’t agree with you. It’s a parent’s instinct, isn’t it? To protect their kids?” 

Harry sighed. “I suppose so. I guess I just… can’t get past the fact that if I hadn’t been such an idiot, they would never have been in the car that night.” 

Draco shifted a little closer. “It wasn’t your fault. I’m sure that nobody blames you for it.” 

“Nobody knows,” Harry admitted quietly. “You’re the first person I’ve ever admitted that too.” 

… 

“I told you I’d hand you your ass at kayaking,” Draco crowed, as Harry rowed himself to a stop beside the bank. 

Laughing, Harry splashed the water at him, laughing harder at his offended expression. 

They climbed out of the water, and waved at Tony as the group made their way up to the hall for lunch. They’d spent almost the whole morning on the water, after an hour of instructional videos and Tony’s own talk. 

It had been a fun morning, and Harry had enjoyed himself—even if Draco had won their race around the lake. 

When they reached the lunch hall, they found Daphne, Hermione and Neville waiting for them. The three of them had decided to sit the kayaking out, and had instead spent the morning doing pottery with Elizabeth. 

They entered the hall together and sat around one long table, still chattering happily amongst themselves. 

“It’s the singular therapy sessions this afternoon, isn’t it?” Susan asked, as she pumped ketchup onto the side of her plate. 

“Yeah. Have you put your name down for one?” Theo asked. 

She shook her head. “No, I uh. No. I just wondered what everyone was doing if they don’t have one.” 

“I think I might just sit out and enjoy the sunshine,” Draco said. “Everything is go-go-go here, it’ll be nice to have a few hours off.” 

“I have a session with Alex,” Theo admitted. “I’m a bit nervous. I don’t know how therapy is meant to work, I never really saw a therapist back home.” 

Padma, Hannah and Neville all said that they had sessions too. As much as he didn’t think it could help him personally, Harry hoped that it helped them. He liked these people, and it was a nice surprise, because he hadn’t actually expected too. 

“I think I’m going to take a walk,” Harry put in. “I feel like this camp is a lot bigger than what we’ve seen so far, I want to go exploring.” 

“You’re willing doing  _ more  _ exercise?” Draco asked, wrinkling his nose. 

Laughing, Harry nodded. “I’m not good at sitting still.” 

That wasn’t the whole story of course, but Draco accepted it for what it was. Harry had just found that sitting around without a purpose made him think more about the things he was trying to avoid thinking about. 

… 

There was a lot of woodland around the camp, and quite a few fields with sheep and cows and horses. Harry paused to watch the horses playing together for awhile before he made his way back to the main part of the camp. Dinnertime was approaching, and the walking had made him hungry. 

When he was almost back, he heard a strange noise behind one of the wood cabins, and hesitating only slightly, he went to investigate. 

He found Theo sitting on the ground with his back to the wall, tears free falling down his cheeks. 

Harry wasn’t sure whether he should walk away without letting Theo know he was there, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. He knew that Theo could be embarrassed by being found, but Harry took the chance. 

“You okay, Theo?” 

The other boy startled and looked up at Harry hovering awkwardly to the side of the cabin. He nodded and then shook his head. “Not really.” 

“Is there anything I can do to help?” 

Theo shrugged, and Harry took another chance and moved closer, sitting down on the grassy floor in front of Theo. 

“I didn’t think that therapy would be so… much,” Theo admitted. “Now I guess I know why my foster parents didn’t bother with it.” 

“Foster parents?” 

Theo smiled bitterly. “I was brought up by my dad. Mum died giving birth to my little brother, and… dad blamed him. He was a drunk, a nasty drunk, and he hated Charlie. He was so  _ mean  _ to him. I tried to protect him as best I could but… I was just a kid, you know? I was scared.” 

Harry nodded. He couldn’t imagine how it must feel to go through that. His parents had done nothing but dote on Harry, and even when he was punished, they always made sure he knew they loved him. 

“Dad snapped at Charlie one night, and I didn’t get there in time to block the hit. Charlie banged his head on the fireplace when he fell and—” Theo choked on a sob. “I didn’t get there in time to save him.” 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Harry murmured, reaching out to squeeze Theo’s shoulder. “That’s awful.” 

Theo nodded. “They arrested dad, but we didn’t have any other family for me to live with, so I was sent into the fostering system. My foster parents, they’re good people. They look after me, but they foster a lot of kids, you know? Some things just… fall through the cracks, and I’m older than a lot of the kids. I’ll be able to move out in a couple of years and start looking after myself.” 

Harry nodded. “Getting it out must be helpful though. It’s a horrible thing to be going through on your own with nobody to talk to.” 

“I think it did,” Theo said. “I just… I guess talking about it brought it all back, and now I can’t get the image out of my mind.”

Harry couldn’t think of anything to say, so he didn’t say anything. He left his hand on Theo’s shoulder and they sat in a companionable silence for a while, so that Theo could try and gather his emotions. 

It was strange, Harry thought, the things that happened in people’s lives that you could have no idea about. Theo was the joker in their little group, he seemed like he was always game for a laugh and a joke and Harry would have had no idea that something so tragic had happened in his not too distant past. 

“Come on,” Theo said eventually, sounding more like the boy that Harry had been getting to know. “Emotions make me hungry, let’s go and get dinner.” 

… 

Harry woke up the next morning feeling fresher than he had in weeks. He’d slept the night through, no nightmares forcing him up in the middle of the night. 

He couldn’t believe they were already on their fourth day; it seemed like it was flying by. He found himself sad about that. He was actually having fun, and he thought that when he went home, he’d miss this bunch of misfits. 

They were hiking after breakfast, and Harry made sure he dressed for it properly. He’d been camping and hiking enough with his dad and his friends when he was younger to know that falling was inevitable, and nobody wanted bleeding knees. 

He automatically fell into step beside Draco, and chuckled as the blond boy bitched about the woodland hike. He clearly hadn’t spent much time in the countryside in his youth, and he slipped twice, stopped from falling only due to Harry’s quick reflexes. 

Unfortunately, Susan wasn’t so lucky, and she tumbled to the ground when they were about three quarters around the trail. 

Elizabeth took charge of the situation immediately, and thankfully, she had bandages in the large pack on her back. 

Something about the blood seemed to trigger Susan, though, and she cried hard leaning into Padma’s supportive shoulder. Padma murmured softly to her, too softly for Harry to hear what she was saying, but it seemed to help. 

“I wonder what that was all about,” Draco said, his brow furrowed. “I didn’t think she fell hard enough to cry that much.” 

“It was the blood,” Harry replied quietly. “Something about the blood triggered her.” 

“She saw her Aunt get murdered,” Hermione said behind them. “She was hiding in the closet, but… she saw it. I think that would give anyone a phobia of blood.” 

Harry was slightly uncomfortable with Hermione telling someone else's story, but he nodded anyway. That was pretty brutal, and Hermione was right; it made sense that she would be triggered by the sight of blood after watching something like that. 

“Maybe don’t tell other people’s stories,” Draco whispered, sneering at her. “You wouldn’t like it if someone did that about you.” 

Hermione opened her mouth and then closed it, flushing. “I, uh. Sorry. I… I guess I didn’t think.” 

“Don’t beat yourself up about it,” Harry offered. “Just… probably don’t do it again. If anyone wants us to know their story, they should have the opportunity to tell us about it on their own time.” 

Hermione nodded. “Sorry.” 

Harry glared at Draco before he could say anything else, and thankfully, the blond held his tongue. 

Her knee bandaged up, Susan calmed down enough to be helped to her feet, and with Neville and Hannah on either side of her, holding her up, she managed to hop along. Harry and Draco dropped to the back of the group. 

“Why did you stop me from telling Hermione off?” Draco asked, scowling. “She shouldn’t be doing that.” 

“I didn’t stop you,” Harry replied shrugging. “You were right to tell her off; you just didn’t need to say anything else after she’d apologised.” 

Draco huffed. “I suppose. I… it’s probably a good thing you made me stop actually. I was getting ready to eviscerate her.” 

Harry rolled his eyes. “It’s unnecessary. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but she’s a bit.. Socially awkward. It was likely an honest mistake, because she wanted to join a conversation, you know?” 

“I mean… I don’t pay that much attention to people to notice things like that.” 

Harry smirked. “You paid enough attention to me to know I didn’t want you to be mean to her.” 

Draco’s blush brightened the whole morning. 

… 

Harry’s mood dipped after lunch, and though he played volleyball with the others, his head wasn’t in it. He didn’t know what was wrong with him, but he couldn’t seem to shake it, and after dinner, he slipped away from the group. 

He didn’t have it in him to play games. 

He wandered around to the pool and perched himself on one of the sunloungers. It was warm out—the weather the whole week had been beautiful—and it was nice to get a few minutes of quiet. 

“Are you okay, Harry?” 

He looked up to see Hermione sitting at one of the small round tables at the other side of the pool, a book laid out on the table in front of her. He’d been so in his own head, he hadn’t even noticed her on his approach. 

“Just… having a moment,” he admitted. “Sorry for disturbing you.” 

“It’s fine, I just… I guess I don’t really like playing games? I don’t really see much point.” 

“To have fun,” Harry offered wryly.

She smiled. “I have much more fun reading that running around in a circle, hitting people on the head.” 

“Oh, I don’t know,” Harry muttered. “There’s a lot to be said for hitting people on the head occasionally.” 

“Do you want to talk about what’s bothering you?” She offered then. 

Harry shook his head. “I don’t  _ know  _ what’s bothering me. I just… I’m just having a moment, like I said.” 

She stood up from her seat and rounded the pool, sitting down on the lounger facing Harry. She reached out to hold his hand with her own. 

“My nana used to tell me that knowing someone is there can sometimes help more than anything else. I promise, if you do need to talk, that I won’t tell anyone else. I wasn’t thinking earlier, when I told you about Susan.” 

Harry squeezed her hand gratefully. “I think I just… I need to talk to Sirius. He’s my godfather, I live with him. My parents, they died and… I just need to talk to Sirius. There are some things he needs to know and I just… don’t know how to tell him.” 

Hermione nodded. “Maybe you could—” 

“Oh. Sorry, I didn’t realise I would be interrupting. I’ll just—” Draco stumbled backwards, ignoring Harry when he called out to him. 

“Fucking hell,” Harry muttered. “Why is he so bloody touchy?” 

Hermione glanced at the spot Draco had been standing, and then down at their joined hands, and she smiled. “You really don’t know?” 

Harry frowned. “Know what?” 

She smirked, patting the back of his hand with her free hand, before she let go entirely. “You’ll figure it out.” 

… 

When Harry got back to the cabin, Draco was ‘asleep’. Harry was almost certain he was pretending, but the others were getting in too, and he didn’t want to call Draco out on his weirdness in front of them. 

The group spent the morning swimming—minus Daphne, Neville and Susan, who was still nursing her knee—and Draco seemed quieter than usual. He joined in, but he wasn’t half as quick with a funny quip, or to splash water at Harry. 

Harry was still very confused by it all. The only thing he could think was that Draco was mad at Harry for talking to Hermione, after the scene during the hiking, but that didn’t really make much sense. 

Following the swimming, Harry sat at the corner of the lunch table with his phone in front of him. He and Sirius had exchanged a few texts since Harry had been at the camp, but Sirius seemed to be trying to restrain himself from checking in on Harry too often. 

It was sweet, if unnecessary. As much as he grumbled about it sometimes, Harry  _ liked  _ the way Sirius cared. It reminded Harry of the way his mum and dad would always text him multiple times during the day if he was out without them. 

It showed that he cared. 

“Are you expecting it to set on fire?” Theo asked, sitting down across from him, nodding at the phone. 

“Just… debating on making a call,” Harry replied, sighing. “I’m not particularly hungry, I think I’m just going to skip out. I’ll meet you all back here for the group therapy.” 

He stood up from the table, ignoring the concerned looks aimed his way, and left the hall, his phone in his hand. 

He sat down on a swing by the reception, and, with a deep breath, pressed the call button. 

“Harry? Is everything okay? Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” Harry replied softly. “Promise. Are you okay? And Remus?” 

“We’re fine,” Sirius replied, the relief evident in his tone. “Missing you, of course. The house seems to quiet without you grumping around the place.” 

“Asshole,” Harry laughed. “I don’t  _ grump around the place. _ ” 

“You really do, kid. It’s fine, you’re a teenager. God, I was a nightmare when I was your age.” 

“You’re still a nightmare now, so not much has changed, has it?” 

“You’re a cheeky shit, Harry Potter,” Sirius announced, and it was just so him, it made Harry’s heart clench in his chest. “So, what’s up?” 

“I uh. I wanted to talk to you about the, uh. About the crash.” 

There was silence for a moment, and then Sirius asked, “Really?” 

Harry supposed the shock should have been expected; he’d point blank refused to talk about it with Sirius or Remus since it happened. 

“Yeah. You… you deserve to know why I feel guilty,” Harry admitted. “I didn’t tell you everything about that night.” 

“Harry…”

“Just let me talk,” Harry pleaded. “Please.” 

“Okay.” 

“Mum and dad, they weren’t supposed to be out that night,” Harry choked out. “I was out being an idiot, and I lost my wallet because I was  _ drunk.  _ They came out to pick me up, Sirius. Mum was still in her pyjamas’ under her coat! If I hadn’t called them, they’d still be here, and that’s why it’s my fault. It’s not survivors guilt, Sirius.  _ It was my fault. _ ”

“Harry,” Sirius gasped, and Harry knew he was crying, because Sirius was a messy crier and he could hear it in his tone. “Harry, it wasn’t your fault! Your mum and dad loved you with their whole hearts, kid, of course they came for you! That doesn’t mean that the accident was your fault.” 

“They wouldn’t have been—” 

“Hey! Listen to me,” Sirius said firmly. “Would you blame me if your dad had come out to pick me up, the same way he did at least once a month, because I’d lost my keys?” 

Harry paused. “No.” 

“So it’s no more your fault than it would have been mine. They hit black ice, Harry, it could have happened to anyone at any time. It sucks that it was James and Lily, but that doesn’t make it your fault!” 

Leaning his head against the swing rope, Harry allowed his tears to fall. 

“You don’t hate me?” he asked, and he hated that he sounded like a child, but he needed the reassurance from his godfather that this didn’t change anything. 

“Hate you?” Sirius asked. “Harry, I could never hate you. You’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to a child of my own, and I love you so much it hurts sometimes. You’re my kid, you always have been, as much as you were your mum and dads.” 

“I love you, Sirius,” Harry said softly. “I’m sorry I’ve been so—” 

“No apologies,” Sirius demanded. “Not about this, not ever.” 

“Kay.” 

“So… I’m assuming by this conversation that the camp is helping you,” Sirius said, after a pause. 

“Yeah,” Harry admitted. “Yeah, I guess it is.” 

… 

“I lost my dad to gang violence,” Draco said, his voice carrying in the silent room. “He was shot by a rival gang to the one he was in, and… I was supposed to join that gang.” 

Harry watched him talk. He knew this, Draco had told him this, but to see him telling the whole group made Harry oddly proud of him. 

“Now I’m not, but it’s what I’ve grown up knowing. I think…. I think my mum sent me here to help me to try and find out who I am without my dad pulling my strings.” 

“Is there anything you’re particularly passionate about?” Tony asked, leaning forwards slightly, with his elbows on his knees. 

“I think… I think I want to study law,” Draco admitted. “I want to help the kids be better, the way I’m having the opportunity to be, and maybe I could help them if I became a lawyer.” 

Tony smiled and nodded. “That sounds like an excellent direction for you to put your energy. Does anybody else have plans for the future?” 

“I want to be a gardener,” Neville admitted, and Harry was surprised at how strong he sounded when he said it. It couldn’t be any different to the weaker tone he had come to expect from Neville. “I really like plants.” 

“I want to be a nurse,” Padma offered up. “My, uh. My twin and I, we were going to do the training together but…” she shook her head. “I want to do it for both of us, because it was something that we shared.” 

“That’s beautiful, Padma,” Hannah said softly. 

“I’m going to college in September to start a course in social care,” Theo said, smiling proudly.

Harry twisted his lips. “I was thinking about going to the police academy,” he admitted. “Like my dad. But I, uh. I was thinking about law, too.” 

Draco smiled at him across the room, the first time since he’d walked away from Harry and Hermione. 

… 

“Will you be doing sixth form first?” Draco asked, as he and Harry walked back to the cabin later that night. “If you decide to do law?” 

Harry nodded. “Yeah. I’d looked into it just before I came here, and the A-Levels alone will take another two years of studying.” 

Draco grimaced. “I hate studying.” 

“But you want to be a lawyer?” Harry laughed. “It’s like, 90% paperwork.” 

“Gross.” 

Harry rolled his eyes, because Draco was clearly joking. Harry thought he’d make a good lawyer—his poker face was already pretty masterful. 

“I spoke to Sirius today,” Harry told him, as the two of them sat down on  _ their  _ steps. “I told him the truth about the crash.” 

Draco’s eyes widened a little bit. “That was really brave of you. I know how much you were struggling with people knowing about that. What did he say?” 

“Pretty much the same thing you did,” Harry admitted. “He doesn’t think it was my fault.” 

Draco smiled. “I won’t say I told you so—” 

“You just did!” 

“I’m glad for you, Harry. I know it won’t fix everything, but… maybe you’ll be able to start letting go of the guilt, now that it’s out in the open.” 

Harry nodded. He had to admit that he felt lighter after his conversation with Sirius. He still felt guilty; he imagined that he probably would always feel at least some responsibility for what happened, but he thought that now, it would at least be a bearable amount of guilt. 

“I think I’m going to miss this place when we all leave,” Harry said, looking around them. They could hear the other boys chattering inside the cabin. “I didn’t expect to like it here but… it’s been good. Hard, but good.” 

Draco nodded. “I’m shocked that I don’t hate it,” he admitted. “I’ve never been to a camp before—my parents insisted on the best hotels whenever we went on holiday, so this is completely foreign to me.” 

“I used to go camping a lot,” Harry replied, a small smile on his face. He’d always loved camping with his Dad, Sirius, Remus and Peter. They were always a lot of fun to be around, and they’d never really treated him like he was a kid. 

They always let him get involved in what they were doing. 

“I think… I think I wouldn’t be as against it as I thought I would,” Draco said, thoughtfully. “I guess nature isn’t as bad as I always thought it would be.” 

… 

“You got this, Neville,” Harry called, looking over his shoulder. He was on the first rest platform of the high ropes, and Neville was behind him, harnessed in to start, but he’d froze. “You can do it! Think about how brave you felt when you spoke up in the group and use it.” 

Harry watched with bated breath as Neville took hold of the first ropes and put his foot on the first wood slat. After a pause, Neville pushed himself off the platform completely. 

The whole group cheered loudly for him, and even from the platform, Harry could see the pleased smile and flushed cheeks. 

For Harry, the high ropes were certainly one of the best things they’d done, and when he got down, he was on such an adrenaline high that he felt amazing. 

The whole group seemed to share his opinion. 

With the high ropes conquered, they ate a quick lunch and were led to the tennis courts, where they played tennis doubles. Harry and Draco played opposite each other, Harry with Padma, and Draco with Susan. 

They were fairly evenly matched, but Harry and Padma managed to pip them to the post at the end. 

“I still beat your time on the high ropes,” Draco sniped, making Harry chuckle. 

“You’re such a child!” 

Draco grinned. 

“Did you see the sign on the main hall about the Karaoke tonight?” Theo asked, bounding up to them, clearly full of excitement. “It’s for the whole camp!”

Draco raised his eyebrows. “I hope you’re not thinking that you’re going to hear me belt out a cheesy hit or three?” 

Harry laughed, and Theo pouted. 

“You won’t sing?” Theo asked, making exaggerated puppy eyes at the blond. “You boring fart, Draco!” 

The others started laughing, and Draco shook his head. “I know you’re going to sing, Theo, you can’t resist showing off, but what about the rest of you?” 

Harry snorted, shaking his head. “I’m tone deaf. I love listening to music, but singing isn’t for me.” 

“I might,” Padma said, smiling wistfully. “Parvati would have loved it; she was such a show off, she loved anything like that.” 

“Parvati?” 

“My twin,” Padma said, the smile fading slightly from her face. “She committed suicide last year. Her girlfriend died when she was attacked by a wolf and Pav…. she didn’t ever really recover from it. I… I guess none of saw her actually—” 

Padma cut herself off and shook her head. “Anyway, when we were younger, she was always the outgoing one, and she loved singing and dancing and anything that meant people were applauding her.” 

Harry smiled slightly. Parvati sounded like she would get on well with Sirius, who’d always been the biggest drama queen in Harry’s life. 

“Well, we’re bound to have fun, anyway, even if you lame gits aren’t gonna join in!” 

Harry shoved Theo lightly, but followed him cheerfully enough towards the dining hall. 

Today was a good day. 

… 

Harry couldn’t concentrate on the singers on the stage. He tried really hard, he really did, but he just couldn’t pull his attention away from the way Draco was pressed up against his side. 

They were touching from knee to shoulder, close due to the lack of room in the hall, and the way the seats had been crammed together around the smaller tables. 

Harry  _ liked it.  _

He’d known he found boys as attractive as he found girls since he was about thirteen. He’d never tried to hide it; never really felt the need. Sirius and Remus had been together since before Harry was born, so he’d never been scared of his parents not accepting him. 

Since the crash, romance was the last thing on his mind though. Yet with Draco… 

Harry tried to push the thoughts away. 

If only due to where they were, it was inappropriate. They were at a bereavement camp, trying to learn coping mechanisms for the losses they’d each suffered and Harry  _ really  _ shouldn’t be lusting over his roommate. 

“You okay? You’ve been quiet,” Draco asked, turning his head slightly to look at Harry. Harry knew his cheeks were heating up, but he figured he could pass it off as the warmth in the room. 

“Fine,” he managed to say. “Just a little distracted is all. You good?” 

“Traumatised,” Draco quipped. “Karaoke is  _ horrifying. _ ”

“You’ve never been to Karaoke either?” Harry asked, thoughts forgotten for a moment, because  _ what?  _

“I guess it’s not really the kind of thing that my family is interested in.” 

Harry hadn’t imagined Draco to be sheltered when they’d first met, but he was, Harry realised. To normal life, Draco had been sheltered by his parents love of doing everything the most expensive and luxurious way possible. 

He’d never had the experiences that Harry took for granted as the everyday normal. 

Draco glanced at him, and he realised he’d been silent for too long. 

“Karaoke is more fun when you’re drinking,” he confided with a soft chuckle. “And it’s less traumatising too, because when you’re drunk, people sound much better.” 

“Like beer goggles for the ears?” Draco asked, smirking. 

“Exactly!” 

… 

They spent the next morning kicking a football around, all keyed up for the afternoon when they’d be let loose on the nearby village for a few hours. 

As much as Harry was enjoying the Camp, it was nice to wander down into town and check out the shops and cafes there. The girls separated off from them as soon as they hit the shops, though Hermione wrinkled her nose at the clothes shops, and looked longingly at the bookshop a few doors down. 

Harry was sure she’d have the opportunity to go in before they left, but he had a feeling that given half the chance, she’d have spent the whole afternoon there with her head buried in a new book. 

It was a good afternoon, and when Harry and Draco split off from the group to grab a coffee, it got even better. 

It was almost date-like, if Draco had any idea that Harry was lusting over him—which he didn’t, thankfully. 

“This is adorable,” Draco commented, as the two of them walked through the middle of the small street of shops. 

Harry grinned. 

They met up with the others, and sure enough, while many of them had bags from clothes shops, Hermione was clutching a bag with the bookshop label on the front of it. 

“I just wanna grab some chocolate to take back to the camp,” Theo said, nodding his head at the little paper shop. 

“I’ll come in with you,” Harry said. He was craving salt and vinegar crisps so bad, it was ridiculous. Draco followed them in, and then Hannah and Susan. 

Harry was the first to the till, and the man behind the counter scanned the goods. 

“Do I know you from somewhere?” he asked, eyeing Harry carefully. 

“I don’t think so,” Harry replied. “I’m not from around here.” 

“I know you from somewhere,” the man argued. Harry handed over a five pound note and waited impatiently for the change, suddenly desperate to get back to the camp and away from the sleepy little town. 

He accepted the change and stood to the side as the others were served. They were almost done when the man clicked his fingers together. 

“You’re the boy who lived! I knew I knew your face from somewhere, you were in the news, weren’t you? The boy who impossibly survived the car crash!” 

Harry swallowed hard. “I’ll wait for you guys outside.” 

He stepped out into the air. He felt like he couldn’t catch his breath, his lungs weren’t working, and he just needed to not be there. 

“Harry?” Neville asked. “Are you okay?” 

Harry shook his head, rubbing a hand over his chest. “Can’t breathe,” he gasped out. 

The others were filing out of the shop, and Draco appeared in front of him. He picked Harry’s hand up and laid it against Draco’s chest, pressing down gently. 

“You can breathe, Harry, breathe with me. Match your breathing to mine, okay, you can do it, you’re fine, he was just an asshole shopkeeper who should know better, okay, you’re okay, you’re fine.” 

Slowly, Harry’s breathing regulated as he focused on following Draco’s own soft inhales and exhales. 

“Jesus,” he whispered, when the panic attack had passed. It had been a long time since he’d had a panic attack, and he certainly hadn’t expected one to be caused by a random old man in a shop. 

Then again, it had been a long time since he’d been called that. The Boy Who Lived. How the man remembered it, Harry had no idea, but he really wished he hadn’t. 

“Okay?” Draco checked, and when Harry nodded, he stepped back. “Come on, let’s get back up to the camp. Otherwise, I’ll be tempted to go and tell that old fucker exactly what I think of him.” 

“Like you didn’t just do that,” Theo snorted, shaking his head as they started walking. Harry suspected he wasn’t supposed to hear that, as there was an ‘oof’ when Draco elbowed Theo a few seconds later. 

He didn’t have the energy to try and tell Draco off for being mean to people though. He just wanted to lie down and forget today had ever happened. 

… 

With only a couple of days left at the camp, they were starting to wind down. The morning after the disaster in the town, they did the obstacle course. Harry’s mind hadn’t really been in it, but he’d had fun, and Draco was very pleased with having the fastest time—at least until Padma’s turn, and she wiped the floor with him. 

It was  _ beautiful _ . 

In the afternoon, there was to be a scavenger hunt, and Draco snagged Harry as his partner. 

They wandered slowly along the trail, neither of them particularly interested in actually winning. 

“Are you looking forward to going home?” Draco asked, kicking a stone that was in his path. 

Harry shrugged. “I guess so. Aside from yesterday, it’s been… good. I feel better now than I did when I got here, and it’ll be nice to see Sirius and Remus. I uh. I’ll miss you though. It’s weird, I didn’t expect to make any friends here but… I have, and it sucks that we all live at different spots around the country.” 

Draco nodded. “We live pretty close to each other though, right? Like, half an hour away. That’s not that far.” 

Harry nodded. “You want to still see me when we’re out of here and you’re back in the land of the rich and influential?” 

“You’re not exactly poor, Harry,” Draco replied, rolling his eyes. “And…. yeah. Yes, of course I still want to see you. I, uh. I like you, Harry.” 

Harry looked at him sharply. “Um. As a friend or—” 

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Draco rushed to say. “But Hermione pointed out to me that it probably wasn’t as hopeless as I thought it was and that maybe you liked me too so—” 

“Hermione?” 

“Uh. Right. That. I apologised to her because I was a bit of jerk after, uh, when I saw you two together at the pool?” 

“You were—Draco, were you jealous?” 

“Little bit, don’t get a big head over it.” 

Harry laughed, and then tugged Draco closer to him. “Can I kiss you? Because I really, really want to kiss you.” 

“You can kiss me,” Draco confirmed, and that was all Harry needed. 

Their first kiss was soft and chaste and sweet. At least until Draco nipped at Harry’s bottom lip. Harry ended up pushed back into a tree, the bark scratching the back of his neck slightly as Draco leant into him. 

As first kisses went, Harry had never had a better one. 

… 

“We’re going to stay in touch, right?” Hannah asked. They already handed their phones around to store each other's numbers in them, and a whatsapp group had been discussed and agreed upon. 

“Of course we are,” Theo replied cheerfully. “We can even do reunions every year at a different campsite. It’ll be awesome.” 

“There you go, Draco. You’ll definitely get to experience drunken karaoke if that happens,” Harry quipped and Draco rolled his eyes. He was leaning into Harry’s side, tucked under his arm. 

The others had ribbed them mercilessly for about an hour when they’d returned from the scavenger hunt, their clothes wrinkled, but with happy smiles on their faces and their hands clasped together. 

“God, those poor campsites, having to deal with us lot when we’re legally allowed to drink,” Susan said, shaking her head. “I give it three years and we’ll all be banned from attending them.” 

Draco snorted. “That’s optimistic.” 

They’d spent their final night sitting around the campfire, making smores and talking and laughing and just enjoying their last night together. 

Harry was looking forward to the following morning, when Sirius would arrive and he could go back home to his own bed, but… he was going to miss this. 

He was going to miss having Draco in the next bed over, and having Theo to laugh with, or Daphne to play chess with. 

It was going to be strange, but they’d be able to keep in contact. That was the important thing. 

And Draco had been right; the two of them lived relatively close together. 

It was going to be fine. 

… 

“So much homework,” Harry groused, flopping down on the blanket Draco had already laid out in the park. “Why did I think A-Levels were a good idea, again?” 

“Because you want to go to university with me, and share a flat, so I don’t have to deal with random people?” Draco offered, looking up from his already open book to press a kiss to Harry’s lips. “Hi.” 

“Hi.” 

Harry had been right, he realised. Everything was fine. 


End file.
